Discovering and Rediscovering
by TheNextOfKin
Summary: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes discovered love once. Then, they discover it again. Steve/Bucky Warning: M/M slash. Rated M for later chapters. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Steve Rogers was a scrawny kid of 17, too old to be as green as he was and too young-looking to be competition for his best friend, the 18 year old ladies' man, Bucky Barnes. That was why Bucky was always setting him up with dates. Steve hated those awkward double-dates. He always found himself watching jealously as Bucky made the gal on his arm giggle while Steve sat with a beautiful dame who ignored his feeble attempts at a stuttered conversation. Steve looked at himself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. His dirty-blonde hair was parted and swept to the side and his blue shirt was tucked neatly into his khaki slacks, showing his slim frame. He looked frail, like he would break in half if the wind blew too hard. Steve let out a sigh. _This is as good as it's gonna get, I reckon_, he thought. A brief knock came at the door and Bucky's voice filtered through. "Hey, Steve, you ready in there? The girls will be waiting on us." Steve looked in the mirror once more, checking his chin, hoping he needed to shave so he could avoid this date a little longer. No such luck – his face was as hairless as it had always been. With another sigh, he exited the small bathroom and joined Bucky in the small apartment room they had shared since leaving the orphanage.

"Lookin' sharp," Bucky said upon seeing his friend and Steve just rolled his eyes. Bucky stood up from the single bed on his side of the room, shrugging on his jacket as he did so.

"I can't believe you talked me into this, again!"

"Aww, quit your whining. It'll be fun!" Bucky cuffed Steve playfully on the shoulder and Steve once more rolled his eyes.

Rubbing his shoulder, where he could still feel the gentle punch his friend had tapped him with, Steve said, "That's what you said last time."

"Come on Steve-o, don't let that one gal ruin you to women! She was nothin' but a Dumb Dora, anyway."

"What about the time before that?"

"So, the last few girls have been duds. But, this one! – I tell you, I got a good feeling about this dame!" Bucky was adamant. Steve sighed. There would be no convincing his friend that he really just didn't want to go. _Plus, it'd be rude to stand the poor gal up. It wasn't her fault this date was doomed, _Steve thought, resigned to his fate for the evening.

So, Steve let Bucky drag him to the bowling alley, where they would meet the girls. When they arrived, two pretty girls rushed towards them. Before introductions could be made, one of the girls, who Steve supposed was Bucky's date, Nelly, kissed Bucky on the cheek and whispered something in his ear that made him flash that smile Steve always envied. With a hurried, "We'll be right back. You two'll be alright, yeah?", Bucky and his girl left Steve and his date alone, Bucky not waiting for an answer and Nelly giggling like a school girl.

"You're not at all like your friend described you." The girl looked Steve up and down.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It just means he sees something in you that ain't obvious, something worth talkin' up."

Steve was a bit taken aback. No girl had ever said something like that to him. All he said in response was, "Oh."

She held out her hand, "I'm Jen Franklin. Friends call me Frankie though." As he took her hand, for the first time he really looked at her. She was about his same height and there was a soft plumpness to her otherwise slim figure. She wore her flaming red hair cropped short in a bob and had on a silk blouse and skirt, her slender legs gracefully cascading from the flowing material.

Noticing the rake of his eyes down her body, she gave him a small smile and took him to one of the private booths. When both were sitting she said, "Look, I like you, which is why I'm gonna tell you you're not my type. And, if I'm right, I'm not your type either."

He gave her a blank look. "Huh?"

"You like your friend, right?"

"Course I do. He's my best friend."

"No, I mean he's your type, like Nelly is mine?"


	2. Chapter 2

"_No, I mean he's your type, like Nelly is mine?"_

* * *

"I… uh… I don't know what you're talkin' about." Steve paled, his bright blue eyes downcast, staring hard at an old mustard stain on the salmon-colored table at which they sat. Frankie rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you don't have to admit it."

"T'ain't nothin' to admit."

"Alright, then."

They sat in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a few moments. _How did she know? Am I that obvious? What if she tells somebody? What if she tells him? He would hate me! Hell, he'd probably either beat the 'fag out of me' or worse, just walk away and out of my life. Oh, God! If she could tell, does he suspect? How did she even know? Wait… did she say that Nelly is her type? _Steve's thoughts ran around and around in his head, making his heart thump loudly against his ribcage and his lungs constrict dangerously.

"I… uh… Please don't tell anyone… okay?"

Frankie rolled her eyes again and patted Steve's hand comfortingly. "I'd never do that. Will you keep my secret too? I really don't think Nel would be so keen on staying friends if she found out that I… well, you know…"

"Yeah… uh, sure. I won't tell! I swear it." Steve, who couldn't go very long without fidgeting with his hands, the real reason he'd first gotten into drawing back when he and Bucky had been grammar school kids at the orphanage, began nervously picking at his nails. "I never heard of a fag dame before."

Frankie scowled, her soft forehead wrinkling in frustration. "I hate that word. What are we, cigarettes? It's just so demeaning. We're still people. Does it really matter who we have feelings for?"

"Well, it is unnatural."

"Feels natural to me. Doesn't it to you?"

"Uh… yeah. … But, the Bible says –"

"I don't give a damn what the Bible says! I believe God loves love and He made us to love whoever we happen to fall for. Besides, it shouldn't matter what the Bible says because America was founded on freedom, religious freedom! And, I don't know anything more like worship than loving somebody. We should be free to explore the sacredness of love like our forefathers wanted us to be free to worship as we want to – free to worship who we want and free to love who we want!"

Steve was a bit taken-aback. He looked at Frankie with awe and simply said, "You're right. I admire how brave you are."

Frankie just shook her head. "It ain't brave hiding who I am. But, I got to – not that I want to…"

"They'd lock us in a nuthouse if anybody found out – or worse!"

"I'd risk it, if I had a chance at happiness with Nel."

Steve gave her a sad smile, looking up at her from beneath his eyelashes. "Yeah…," he said, not knowing any other way to say that he knew the heartbreak she was living with.

Frankie's green eyes held a soft melancholy as she spoke, saying "She has quite a thing for soldiers, my Nel. She'll fall in love with some private and get married and when he comes home from the war she'll have already had his first child. And I… well, I'll still be the friend she sets up on blind dates who is still in love with her…"

"I'm sorry… I, uh, know what it's like…"

Frankie's eyes flashed briefly with an emotion Steve couldn't place. She took his hands firmly in her own and looked straight into his eyes. "I got no chance at being with Nel," she told him, "But, let me tell you, you and Bucky, you two have a real shot."

Steve pulled his hands away as if she had burned him. "Don't say that. He'd sooner give me a fat lip than kiss me. Either you know that and are being cruel or you're dense."

Frankie fixed him with a glare. "You're the one that's dense! How you don't see it, I don't know! A guy doesn't talk-up his _pal_ the way Bucky spoke about you. No guy looks at his _ol' buddy_ like Bucky looks at you. God! – What I wouldn't give for Nel to see in me what he sees in you! If she looked at me like he looks at you I'd risk everything for one moment in her arms. Either you're an idiot and you really don't notice how he feels for you or you do and are too much of a coward to do anything about it – in which case, you're an idiot! I'm leaving. I don't need some pathetic gunsel who continuously throws away his chance at happiness reminding me that I don't even have a chance. When Nel and Bucky get back from wherever they parked, tell her I walked home."

After the whispered tirade was finished, Frankie huffed out of the bowling alley, leaving Steve blinking and stupefied. He was too flummoxed and stunned to notice the two men who downed their drinks followed her out the door. For a minute he sat, mute, mind whirling, and dazed by what had just happened, shocked as if she had slapped him. Then, Steve's gentlemanly instincts took over. _I should apologize. I should've never spoken to a lady like that! And I really can't let her walk home alone – the city is dangerous for a dame at night… _

Steve stood up and rushed out of the bowling alley, hoping he could find Frankie before she got too far away. When he got outside, Steve looked left and right, searching her out, but there was no sign of her on the sidewalks. Steve, not knowing where she lived, didn't know which way to look for her. Deflated, he was about to go back inside when he heard a noise that sounded like a trashcan being toppled over. Then, he heard yells.

* * *

"Hey girlie, now that you ditched that fish you was with at the bowling alley, how's about you have a little fun with some real men?"

Frankie had been taking a shortcut through the alley alongside a building beside the bowling joint, hoping to get to the boarding house where she and Nel stayed before the tears could escape her eyes. When the two men had come up behind her, she hadn't noticed, too caught up in her storming thoughts. But when she heard the leer, she turned to see two large men. One was toweringly tall, but it was the other one who was more intimidating. He was short and bulky, with brutish muscles. As if by instinct, Frankie tensed.

"Look, I don't want any trouble."

"Good. Neither do we. Now, let's go have some fun," the shorter one said, grabbing her arm bruisingly.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Frankie tried to pull her arm free, but the man just yanked it behind her back, holding her in place.

The taller man grabbed her face with one hand, fingertips digging into her cheeks, palm cradling her chin, and practically hissed, "Oh, you'll be a fun one!" When he gave her an oily smirk, she spit in his face. "Bitch! – you'll pay for that!" he said, wiping her mucus from his eyes. While he was blinded by he spit, Frankie kicked out at him. The feeling of her foot connecting with him hard enough to knock him back into a garbage can was rewarding but she knew she wouldn't be able to get out this situation alone. She knew how big of trouble she was in. So, like any good damsel in distress, she did the only logical thing – she yelled for help.

"Let me go, you oaf! Help! Somebody! Help! Let go of me! Get off! Hel –" Her yell was cut off by a hand thrown over her mouth by the brute holding her. She yelled wordlessly through the hand over her mouth.

"Hold her still!" The tall attacker had recovered from his fall into the trashcan and stalked up to her like a wild dog hunting its prey. As his hands began shoving her skirt up, a shout rang from the entrance to the alley.

* * *

Steve followed the commotion to a small, dark alley one building down from the bowling alley. As he turned the corner, he saw a sight that made the bile rise in his throat. Two men were pressing themselves against Frankie. Steve shook with fury and called out to the dirtbags forcing themselves on her.

* * *

"Hey!"

The tall man's hands stilled and the two attackers turned to face whoever had interrupted them. What they saw was the fish of a kid from the bowling alley, the pathetic date their victim had walked out on. The two men jeered at the scrawny boy.

"Run home, kid. This is adult business."

"She said let her go. So, let the lady go." Steve spoke with finality, his voice holding the authority of a much stronger man. The attackers chuckled darkly. _He's gonna get himself killed_, Frankie thought desperately.

"Nah, I don't think we will. Who's gonna make us? You?" the shorter one slurred.

"Go home to your whore mama, boy, and let the real men show your gal a good time."

Steve's vision went red and before he knew it, he was lunging at the taller man. Now, Steve had been in a lot of fights, in fact the nuns at the orphanage he and Bucky had grown up at had said Steve had a fighting problem, but he just didn't have the physique to fight well. Bucky was always telling Steve that he had been made to be a lover and not a fighter, to which Steve always responded "Yeah, yeah. But tell that to all those dames that won't go out with me." Even though Steve was always getting into fights, defending what was right, the truth was he had never won a fight without Bucky's help.

This time was no different. He'd got in only two decent punches before his much taller opponent clocked him in the jaw, sending him to the ground. Then, kick after kick slammed into him as he curled into a defensive position. Suddenly, though, the kicks stopped as the tall thug was also knocked to the ground by a right-hook from a man he hadn't seen enter the alley.

Steve looked up to see Bucky standing over him, his stance protective. For a brief moment their eyes caught each other's and Steve gasped at what he saw in Bucky's eyes – for a second he thought he saw tenderness, sorrow, fear, possessiveness, relief, pain, love – so many emotions in his eyes.

* * *

Bucky and Nelly had taken Nelly's car to park it in the lot in front of the construction site where Bucky worked for a little 'quickie' before bowling. Bucky liked taking Nelly out because she was fast and didn't pretend that women didn't want the exact same thing men wanted. It didn't take very long to get down to business, nor did it take long for them to finish. As Bucky came down from his climax, phantom images of Steve's face floated in his mind and he blinked them away. It was becoming increasingly difficult to settle for second-rate dames like Nelly, who was nice enough and pretty with her soft lips and round buttocks, increasingly difficult to pretend that his best friend wasn't the one he really wanted. Bucky knew he wasn't a homosexual – dames did it for him physically – it was just that he loved Steve, loved in a way that was more than as a friend or even as a brother. But he knew what he felt was wrong, knew he'd go to Hell for how he felt, and, worse, knew Steve would abandon him if he ever knew. So, Bucky put all his energy into hiding how he felt, chasing skirt, and trying to find a dame worthy of Steve.

As Nelly put herself back together, Bucky sighed. "We'd best get back and see how they're getting' on," he muttered, secretly hoping Steve didn't like his date because he wasn't sure he could handle seeing Steve even drape his arm around some floozy much less kiss somebody. Nelly started the car and began driving.

Ever since becoming friends with Steve at the orphanage, Bucky had made a subconscious habit of glancing into alleys to check for Steve being beaten up. As they neared the bowling alley, Bucky's heart thumped into his throat when his eyes flickered over the image of Steve, curled in on himself, being kicked brutally in an alley.

"Damn it, Steve!" he swore under his breath and, without waiting for the car to stop, jumped out of the car, bolted to the alley, and leapt into action.

* * *

Steve watched in awe as Bucky sent a punch to the short thug's face, causing the unwitting man to release Frankie and crumble to the ground, unconscious. Frankie rushed to Steve's side. "Are you alright?" she whispered.

Nelly, having parked her car on the side of the road, walked upon the scene in just enough time to see Bucky save Frankie. She gasped, her hand over her heart, as Bucky leaned down over the other man, who was still conscious. He grabbed the ruffian by his shirt and practically snarled, "Get your friend and get out here. And don't let me see your face around here anymore!" With that, Bucky tossed the man back.

As Bucky approached, Frankie edged back, not wanting to get in the way of the men she knew loved each other. "Thank you, Steve," she whispered as she pulled away to leave him in Bucky's capable hands.

Frankie turned to Nel, who gave her a big hug and muttered, "You poor darling," into her hair.

Bucky helped Steve stand and draped Steve's arm over his shoulder. Steve groaned as they took a step and leaned more weight onto Bucky, who just wrapped a supportive arm around his waist in response. Together, they walked out of the alley.

As they edged past Nelly and Frankie, Bucky muttered, "Guess we'll be seeing you gals later, then. Best get him bandaged and in bed." He gave a small, fake laugh that did nothing to hide the worry he felt.

Then, together, Bucky and Steve slowly made their way in silence to the tiny one-room apartment they called home.


End file.
